


Heartbeats are only Skin Deep

by ShatteredTearz



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, DAD76, Protective Genji, Very minor Robo gore (torbjorn dissects an omnic arm), blind!soldier AU, dont ask how robots are trans im a writer it can happen, huge AU in general tbh, tags will be added as this progresses, trans!zenyatta
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-07
Updated: 2016-07-26
Packaged: 2018-07-22 03:54:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7418800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShatteredTearz/pseuds/ShatteredTearz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Overwatch AU where omnics are built to resemble humans to the point where it's nearly impossible to tell them apart.) -- Those words had made him cringe. Made him press up against the door, hands shivering as he listened to Bastion give a defeated beep and stride off. And now he stared up at the ceiling, unable to forget the mechanic’s words. Damn acid blood. Damn acid blood. It wasn’t directed at him, but it still made him cringe. Zenyatta rolled onto his side, staring a hole in the wall now as he scooted the pillow further under his head. A hand over his chest, he softly sighed at the faint whir that could be felt, the closest he’d ever get to a heartbeat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Oops, my friends think I'm a human.

**Author's Note:**

> welcome to an awkward AU I came up with like a few days ago I'm sorry if it's super OOC it's my first OW fic please i am TRYING

Sure, the Gibraltar base had gone into some disrepair with the fall of Overwatch, but that didn’t make it any less viable a setup for rebuilding the operation. At least… that’s what some of the others claimed. Technically, all this Overwatch stuff was illegal. Very illegal. But that didn’t stop them. 

Zenyatta had found a particularly nice spot for a moment of evening meditation. Overlooking the water and vast sunset along the horizon, the rock’s sloped quickly downwards, but helped support what little of the base was exposed to the outdoors. He’d found a nice little grassy patch, buildings creaking softly as the wind jostled some bits of them that were barely hanging on. The monk sat cross legged, arms laid over his knees as his back remained straight despite the time he’d spent in that single position. Eyes closed, he let out a long sigh as that salty sea breeze washed over him like a wave, catching a bit of his hair in it’s trail.

The sunset danced light along the front half of his head, which had been shaved in that usual monkly manner. However, his differed with the fact that the back half remained untouched. In fact, the rest of his mane had been woven into a long braid that quickly pooled behind him in a black heap, almost comical in length. It was actually uncommon for it to be laid haphazardly as such. Normally he’d tend to it in the same way he worked with his orbs, controlling them without physical contact. Truth be told, very few understood how the monk did such things. They never really questioned how he was able to float about without touching the ground or how he could fire the orbs with merely a flick of a hand. So of course, they didn’t really question how that impossibly long braid was able to wind about like a serpent when he was idle. 

The calm atmosphere was interrupted with a soft shift of sound. Zenyatta perked up a bit, eyes remaining closed as he gave a mere twitch at the difference in the expected. The tail of his braid gave a slight movement. “Genji..?” The robotic sigh that followed only made him smirk wide, blinking open vibrantly blue eyes as he turned a bit to glance behind. Sure enough, the younger Shimada was about to approach, standing a few meters away before giving a quick bow when he was noticed.

 

“Forgive me, Master. I should not have interrupted your meditation…”

 

The monk quickly waved off his worry with a low chuckle, turning back towards the view set before them. “It was coming to a conclusion anyways. Save your apology and join me for a moment…” At the verbal beckoning, Genji gave a quick nod and strode over, eagerly taking a seat beside him. He glanced over at his Master briefly before slowly turning his gaze to where the man was staring. “I take it you are not out here for the view?” The young Shimada gave a slow nod.

 

“Some of the others noticed you out here… They didn’t want to interupt, but… They fear staying out any longer would’ve been bad for your health.”

 

“In what ways?”

 

“Sir Morrison thought you might be getting, erm… cold…”

 

Zenyatta’s brief laugh caught the ninja beside him off guard for a moment. It wasn’t a cackle of taunting or something of the sort. Merely a chuckle as he shook his head and sighed. “I’m the one who lived at Shambali Monastery, and they claim I’LL get cold…” His gaze found Genji’s look of minor shock. “What?” The monk blinked for a brief moment before shaking his head. “I… do not mean that in a dismissive way. I appreciate their concern for my health, I do. I merely find it… somewhat amusing…”

 

“You made a joke!”

 

“Am I not supposed to?”

 

“Oh no! No no no!” Genji had raised his hands in surrender despite the monk’s almost teasing smirk. “You’ve merely been so serious since we’ve joined these people in their cause. I was beginning to think they’d taken their humor with that contract of theirs!” This produced another laugh, one that wasn’t so brief much to Genji’s delight. That stark blue gaze found it’s way to the young Shimada once more.

 

“It’s not that easy to render me humorless, Genji… They’ll have to give me more than a few missions to shut me up.”

 

However, Zenyatta eventually calmed his smirk and sighed, moving to push himself up. “But if they are concerned, I shall listen. They are our teammates, after all… Come. It seems as if this helpless monk might need an escort back to base.” Genji was quick to hop to his feet, striding beside his master as that braid did what it was best at. It rose up along the man’s form, draping over his shoulders like a lazy pet snake as his orbs joined it like a necklace. 

It wasn’t wrong of their team to assume such, however. In truth, the monk seemed to wear very little. Normally, he would’ve gone around shirtless like most monks from Shambali. Although, he’d quickly learned against doing such around those that deemed his hardware… censorable. So he got as close to shirtless as he could get without offending the masses. A thin, double layered sheet of cloth wrapped about his upper chest was all that accompanied his tented pants and sandals. If only looking from the waist down, one would assume to be rather bulky in build, yet his lack of “suitable” torso-wear showed just how thin and boney he truly was. Even his own student dwarfed him in mass.

 

Standing guard was someone neither of the two really got to see much of. At least, not on off hours. Bastion leaned on the wall besides one of the base doors, although it certainly looked more like a garage opening than the entrance to a base. On an outstretched hand perched that avian friend he was never really seen without. At their approach, the bird perked up and fluttered off towards the rock overhang that covered most of the base. The omnic only really noticed them once he realized what scared off his friend, raising a brow before giving a quick bow of the head to them. Those eyes of his were a bright, unnerving blue, glowing brightly as if he’d just fully charged whatever form of power he ran on. Black hair pulled back from his face, his synthetic skin was deeply tanned against the heavily weathered army jacket he wore. It used to hold patches designating him a Bastion unit of the Omnic army, but any that weren't torn off had been terribly mutilated.

A few trailing beeps came their way, something Genji could never understand. However, it seemed the monk could, as he smiled and nodded the omnic’s way. “And a good evening to you as well, my friend. I take it you will not be joining us tonight?” The omnic had long since established his inability for human speech. Something about not the right software or damaged hardware. Who knows. Still, Bastion grinned and gave a robotic chuckle before shaking his head, responding in that foreign tongue. “Yes, yes… Guard duty is quite the hassle, I hear.”

Zenyatta sighed, but gave a quick bow of the head to the omnic. “Very well. Take care of yourself tonight, if that is the case. Do not let the cold freeze your circuits.” Again, that exchange of that robotic tone. The two laughed at a joke Genji couldn’t comprehend before they retreated into the base. Now left in the silent hallway as they proceeded further in, the young Shimada looked over his master. Face covered, the monk didn’t need to see his expression to read his unnerved gaze. “What?”

He’d glanced over at Genji, raising a brow as his orbs slowly orbited his neck. “You two… know each other well?” The monk gave him an odd look, something between slight frustration, guilt, and suspicion. “You spoke to him as if you understood. There are very few on the base that can understand omnic language. I did not know you were so… fluent in it.” 

The monk gave a shrug as he turned his gaze back in front of him. “Shambali welcomed all. They  _ still _ welcome all, considering who their founders were… It’d be a shame if I  _ didn’t _ know how to speak it after working with them.” The door swung open, greeting them with the more casual areas of the base. The social areas, if you will. A small kitchen in one corner and a sad excuse for a dining table in the next, the third was occupied by an entertainment center of repurposed military equipment. He wasn’t sure where all of it was pieced together from, but he knew the TV used to be a monitor from Winston’s lab until they began getting more members. “But… I suppose I know him decently. We are not terribly close, but I’ve spoken to him quite a few times.” The monk sighed and frowned as his words shifted language to Genji’s native tongue. “Something I’m  _ sure _ many on the base never bother to do…”

His student nodded knowingly, watching as two blurs of color peeled around the corner from the other doorway. Lucio and the famous Dva leapt onto the nearby couch with uncanny agility, briefly battling for the remote before clicking on the TV. Lucio scooted into the left end of the couch, leaning into the armrest as Hana leaned over the back with a frown. “PAPA! HURRY UP, IT’LL BE ON SOON!” Her cry was echoed by a frustrated looking Soldier 76 rounding the corner at a less enthusiastic speed. At the sight of him, Hana grinned and turned back around, getting comfortable at Lucio’s side. 

Their speed had cut off the two, but the monk had stopped to crack a smile at the enthusiasm of youth. “You two want anything? Popcorn? Drinks?” Jack had stopped by the small kitchen, dressed in what seemed to be his night wear. A pair of shorts and a baggy T-shirt, he looked appropriately like a dad. Although, the tactical visor he still kept on seemed out of place. Turning, he scowled and scoffed at their lack of responses. However, he perked up at the sight of the other two. “Oh! Hey there, you two. Glad to see you made it inside alright…” 

 

“Indeed we have. Glad to hear you were concerned about my wellbeing, Commander.”

 

That title seemed to make the Soldier straighten a bit, his brows furrowing above his visor. He’d kept the mask part of it off, only using the visor to help make his way around the base. “Yeah… Well, it gets kinda chilly at night. Didn’t want you losing track of time and freezing out there. Winston would  _ not _ have been happy if you-” Another cry of ‘PAPA!’ from Hana merely a few meters away. Jack groaned and raised a hand to rub his temples. “Look, I won’t keep you two. Plus, they’ve got a thing to show me anyways. Have a good night, though, and sleep well…” He eyed Genji for a moment. “I mean… If cyborgs sleep, that is…”

The student gave a shrug, chuckling as Dva hopped off the couch to forcibly drag the adopted father away. Leaving the kids to their show, Zenyatta was quick to guide Genji off further into the base. There was plenty of room for them all in the Gibraltar setup. THe problem was cleaning it out so it was suitable to live in… They’d already set up quite a few rooms for the members gathered, even setting one aside for Bastion close to Zenyatta’s quarters. Truth be told, Genji’s room might as well not even exist. He barely spent enough time in there to justify him owning it. If anything, he owned his Master’s room more considering how long he was there for.

Mechanical doors closing with a hiss, the monk was quick to set his orbs away for safekeeping, sending them floating neatly into a drawer in his dresser. The room itself was sparsely furnished and even more sparsely decorated. Bamboo mats had been rolled out over the floor, covering the previously cold concrete. Winston had offered trying to install a rug or simple wood flooring, but of course he’d been politely refused. Tucked into the far corner of the room was a simple bed consisting of one mattress, a thin blanket, and a stuffed old shirt for a pillow. The only other furnishings in the room was a small end table holding a couple of old pictures and a bigger, low lying table in the center, one that could be used by merely sitting on the floor instead of needing a chair. 

The dresser held more knick knacks and assorted objects than clothes, to be honest. Zenyatta pulled open a few of them after setting away the orbs, tugging out what looked to be a water bottle and some tea bags. Carefully taking a small teapot from atop the dresser, he approached and sat slowly at the table in the center of the room. Genji sat to his left as the monk twisted the cap from the bottle and filled the teapot most of the way. “I know you’d prefer to do this the proper way, but… something tells me you wish to leave those three to their movie time… Hold out your arm, Genji.”

His student did as he was told, familiar with the process they used to keep such casual tea sharing private. After all, that small kitchen would normally be their only source of heat this late at night if it weren’t for the cyborg. Those three nubs on his shoulder shot out into rods, exhaust spewing from his mechanics within. Carefully, Zenyatta balanced the pot atop the tripod presented to him, folding his hands in his lap as the older man held the position effortlessly. Exhaust heating the water within with no issue, the Shimada gave a soft sigh. “I’m at least glad you came up with this idea… I don’t know  _ how _ you even got it in the first place.”

 

“Critical problem solving, my pupil…”

 

“Yes, because not being able to brew tea is a critical problem.”

 

The water heated quickly beneath the harmless fumes of his own inner workings, it’s sudden whistle of warning causing the ninja to perk up. Even Zenyatta furrowed his brows a bit. “That… was quicker than normal. It seems your temperatures have skyrocketed tonight, Genji…” Carefully, he plucked the teapot from the man’s shoulder, allowing him to lower his arm as the hot china was set on a cloth atop the table. Thankfully, the cups from their tea earlier this morning remained, rinsed and cleaned but otherwise untouched. The monk plopped a tea bag into the pot, setting it aside to steep before turning to his student. “Is this merely a result of heavy training, or is something the matter?”

Of course, Genji shook his head. “Nothing’s wrong, Master! I must’ve… gotten a bit too enthusiastic at the shooting range.” He looked away at that raised brow. “Mccree was, um… practicing with his revolver. He issued a challenge against my shuriken I could not reject. I may have gotten too into the competition before I came to see you.” Zenyatta’s smile soon calmed him.

 

“That is all?”

 

“As far as I can tell, Master. I had only  _ just _ gotten back from calling it a draw when Mister Morrison suggested I look for you.”

 

“I see…” The monk straightened his form, giving a soft sigh as he looked over the young Shimada. That sleek metal was always a pleasant sight to him. Initially, the older pupil found it repulsive, that such a thing made him as bad as the omnics. Although he would sometimes joke that his student was now a “reverse omnic”, it was his own teachings that eventually helped him realize neither his robotic parts nor omnics were repulsive. It was only until the other spoke up again that Zenyatta had realized how quiet he’d been.

 

“So… How long have you known that Bastion unit?”

 

He stiffened a bit, his smile curling down into a slight frown. “I only met him shortly after we joined up, actually.” Zenyatta leaned forward to check on the tea, reaching to pluck up the teapot upon seeing how well it’d steeped. “I don’t believe he likes to identify as an  _ anything _ unit anymore, but… He has kept the name Bastion. Why?” The monk carefully poured them some of the tea, handing Genji’s cup off to him first. “Has he done something to cause distrust yet?”

That was a rather… passively defensive claim. Even the young Shimada perked up at this, furrowing his brows as his Master’s gaze quickly flickered away when he focused his eyes on him. “I… No?” The man frowned, raising his free hand to remove his face mask. Setting it on the table, he was the first of the pair to sample the creatively brewed tea, his unhindered gaze still locked on the monk. “Not that I know of? I am… merely concerned. Most of the others do not trust him. It could just be their hatred talking, but…” He sighed, shaking his head as he looked away. “Nevermind. I am a fool for taking their words to heart.”

 

“Their words?”

 

Genji shrugged, unable to look his master in the eye as he spoke. “It is… It is not stuff I like to repeat.” Another sip. The young Shimada stared into his tea as if he’d been asked to recite the deeds of Nazis to someone who had no idea who they were. “The usual… anti-omnic banter. They claim he’s too dangerous to be stationed here with us. That Winston should kick him out or have him decommissioned. That… he’s just some dirty acid blood-” The monk’s sudden, sharp cough make the ninja jump, startled as he looked over.

Zenyatta held a hand to his mouth, eyes slightly widened as he looked away. Cup set down, it seemed merely hearing such a slur made him almost choke on his tea. “M-Master? Are you alright?!” The monk’s eyes flickered closed as he gave another few coughs, waving off his pupil’s concerns. After a moment or so, the teacher finally regained himself, much to the student’s relief.

“I’m fine, I’m fine… I’m just…” Zenyatta sighed, pulling his cup into his hands to warm them. “I’m just a tad surprised that such talk would come from our own teammates…” However, he quickly frowned, almost scowled, and raised his cup for another sip. “But then again… Should I honestly be startled.” He spoke mostly to himself, his question unanswered as he took a sip. 

 

“I’m… I’m sorry, Master…”

 

“Do not be. I’m not angry at you, merely disappointed at them.”

  
Genji frowned, casted his gaze back into his cup. Remaining quiet, he found himself unable to look him in the eye again, adjusting himself so he crossed his legs like the monk instead of kneeling at the table. The two were silent for the rest of the night under the guise of meditation and peace… 


	2. Genji's Reaction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oops that last scene got kind of out of hand i'm sorry
> 
> Alternate chapter title: Zenyatta considers beating Torbjorn with his own claw arm.

Zenyatta found himself staring at the blank, white ceiling. It was about late morning-ish, and to be honest he’d been awake all day. The monk laid still, failing to blink as he stared in silence. Genji had left in the wee hours of morning, having fallen asleep during their nightly meditation. What the monk had heard after he left still played through his head…

He assumed someone was heading back to their chambers, presumably Torbjorn by the accent, when a sudden crash of metal on concrete jostled the youngest from sleep. Zenyatta had moved to see what it was, but was interrupted by speech. “Filthy sack of bolts… Why can’t ye watch where ye walkin’!” A low robotic trill had followed, sending chills up the monk’s spine. Bastion… had run into Torbjorn? “No, no! Don’t touch it! Don’t touch anythin’! You’ll probably just get em’ all unorganized, ya damn acid blood!”

Those words had made him cringe. Made him press up against the door, hands shivering as he listened to the omnic give a defeated beep and stride off. And now he stared up at the ceiling, unable to forget the mechanic’s words. Damn acid blood. Damn acid blood. It wasn’t directed at him, but it still made him cringe. The monk rolled onto his side, staring a hole in the wall now as he scooted the pillow further under his head. A hand over his chest, he softly sighed at the faint whir that could be felt, the closest he’d ever get to a heartbeat.

A knock on the door made that whirring kickstart with a shock. Jumping a bit, the monk leapt upwards into a sitting position, slightly calming once he heard that certain soldier call for him. “I’m up, I’m up!” Hopping to his feet, he strode over to the door, moving to crack it open a bit. Peaking around, his vibrant blue gaze quickly made it’s way to that slightly transparent visor. “Did you need something?”

Jack had thankfully found another outfit besides the Basic Dad one from last night. A dark pair of jeans, a shirt that fit snugly along his arms, and those beloved boots of his. He raised a brow at the monk’s behavior before shaking his head. “Well… Not specifically. Was just wonderin’ where you’d been. You’re usually up a bit earlier, and…” His voice trailed off, producing a smile from Zenyatta as he slowly slipped out of the room. Closing the door behind him, he leaned up against it as he listened. “Oh don’t gimmie that look, Zen.”

 

“I am not giving you a look.”

 

Morrison rolled his eyes a bit, sighing as he stepped back to give the monk some room. “Yeah. I worry. There’s some leftovers from breakfast, surprisingly. You might wanna get to them before the kids do.” Ah, the kids. It wasn’t official on paper, but it was practically a thing at this point. Lucio and Hana were practically his own. “And, well… I haven’t seen Genji leave the shooting range in a while. Jessie’s probably dragged him in for another competition, and I’ll be honest, I’d rather not mess with him when he’s in The Zone.” A scoff cut his speech. “Last time I tried to interrupt his shooting, he nearly shot my visor in two. Kid SAID it was an accident, but…” Another grumble from the soldier as he folded his arms, sighing. “Just try not to startle Mccree if you go lookin’ for your student, is all…”

With a nod, the monk gave a swift bow towards the man. “I will keep that in mind, Commander.” The other man muttered something about not calling him that under his breath. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I believe I have a pupil to rescue.” He’d cracked a smirk, exiting almost too quickly. Truth be told, that overheard scene from last night was still eating at the back of his mind. He heard the elder mutter an awkward goodbye behind him as he made his way from the private quarters area, wringing his hands gently. He was stopped in the rec room by a rather unpleasant sight.

The sad excuse for a dining table had been cleared, Torbjorn and Dva sitting side by side. It was odd, considering their strange relationship, but the two seemed to be investigating what appeared to be a gun. At least, that’s what Zenyatta thought until he spied what the gun was attached to and the metallic parts strewn about the table. He gulped down a lump in his throat that couldn’t technically exist. Old omnic parts. No doubt scavenged from some destroyed or decommissioned unit. Torbjorn clutched the gun with his clawed hand and pointed out a few places with his pen before jotted down some notes as he explained to the girl, whom was probably only interested because it resembled the guns on her mech. “An’ this would’a been the wrist part, ya see. Would’a popped right outta the synthetic skin like some kinda Alien movie, an’-” They perked up as the monk gently cleared his throat, watching for a brief moment as he averted his gaze.

 

“Peace and blessings to you both.” The monk cracked open the fridge, glazing over the leftovers as he spoke. “I certainly hope those parts were obtained humanely…”

 

The shorter man rolled his eyes and scoffed, turning back to his project. “Getta load’a this bot hugger over here…” He gave a brief grumble, jotting down a few more notes before setting the pen aside and motioning for the mechanical drill the girl held. Holding down the piece, he directed her towards a few screws instead of removing the tool from her possession, allowing a more ‘hands on’ experience. “O’ course they’ve been obtained ‘ _humanely_ ’... The thing was dead when I got there. It can’t be missin’ any arms when it can’t move anymore…” He mocked the monk’s voice at the word humanely, setting the screws aside after Dva carefully plucked them out.

Zenyatta’s retrieved cup gave a small hairline fracture at the pressure he gripped it with suddenly… Glaring over his shoulder, he gave a shudder as the Swedish man relentlessly pried off a sheet of metal, setting it aside like junk. He set down the cup, massaging his own arm with a rather tight grip before averting his gaze again. Staring at the slightly broken glass, he flinched once that drill revved to life again, one hand clapping over his chest to feel that whirring skyrocket in pace. The other braced against the table for a moment, and he heard some taunting words from behind him at the table. For some reason, they sounded muffled as he stared down the glass, shoulders shivering slightly at the idea that the drill bit could be coming for him next.

 

The monk rushed from the room without another word, leaving the two suddenly quiet and confused behind him…

 

\----------------------

 

Several shimmering shuriken ripped through the projected hologram, a smirk spreading beneath his face plate as the target turned from blue to red. A robotic voice overheard called off a critical elimination, causing the young Shimada to turn on his heels towards his shooting partner. “Your turn, hotshot…” Smirk unseen, it was his low chuckle that signified his slight smugness. He didn’t want to get cocky, but… Master Zenyatta encouraged celebrating achievements! So it was okay, right?

The target had been quite a few yards away, farther than normal shooting range practice dummies. Mccree rolled his eyes, cracking a smirk as he rolled the end of his cigar from one end of his mouth to the other. Pausing, he raised a hand to take the cigar, taking a quick puff and releasing the smoke with a long sigh. He lounged against the wall like some sort of southwestern dragon as they took turns seeing how far they could headshot the target, cigar poised between his fingers. “You think that was good?” He grinned. “Oh bless your heart, darlin’... You’ve got another thing comin’...”

Peacekeeper hung lazily from a finger, and the cowboy twirled it a bit before getting a good grip. Replacing the cigar between his teeth, he waited for the program to extend the distance of the target. Savoring the moment of the aim, he raised the Peacekeeper towards the hologram, taking his sweet ass time to peer and predict. Focus, Jessie, focus… Just like we practiced. We ain’t gonna let some tiny ass cyborg show us up in a shootin’ contest! (Although Genji wasn’t TECHNICALLY shooting…) He narrowed his gaze, staring down as he lined up his shot. Just a little bit this way… A little bit there… Annnnnnd-

 

“Good morning, my fri-”

 

BANG!

 

“AH, GAHD DAMNI’!!”

 

Unable to talk right with a cigar in his mouth, the cowboy reached up to wrench it from his teeth, whipping around to stare down whoever interrupted his perfect focus. Sadly, it was a wide eyed, startled Zenyatta. Mccree immediately deflated, quickly sheathing his revolver. “Oh, uh… Hey there… G’mornin’, Zenny! I, uh… Shit, I’m sorry ‘bout that…” His gaze flickered away and back a few times before settling on the slowly calming monk, a small flush of embarrassment in the cowboy’s face.

 

“Master Zenyatta! I-! I did not expect you here so early!”

 

Genji immediately gave a bow to his teacher, whom gave a nod in return. “Well, I… It is not exactly that early, Genji…” The monk had furrowed his brows a bit, briefly craning his neck and squinting to make out the far off holographic target. Even he had to admit that’d be difficult for him to hit. That’s what they were practicing on?

 

“It isn’t? But I thought we were only practicing for about… half an hour?”

 

“Genji, it’s almost eleven in the morning. How long have you been doing this for?”

 

Jessie perked up at the time, stiffening. “Aw hell, it is?!” He spat out a few choice curse words before groaning to himself. “Shit, shit, I told Winston I’d be goin’ over mission intel an hour ago! Aw hell, he’s gonna be PISSED at me!” The cowboy darted towards the shooting range exit, turning quickly on his heels as he strode backwards. “I’ll have to see ya ‘round then, Genji! Don’t think I’m done with you yet!” His cry was echoed by panicked spur jingling as he made his exit, producing a soft sigh from the monk.

It was silent for a few moments, the young Shimada watching the exit his friend had taken as if he’d never seen the man run so fast in his life. However, he eventually turned his attention. “Forgive me, Master. I had no idea how engrossed we were in our competition.” His hands were clapping in an almost begging position, head bowed towards the monk. “I should’ve stopped it earlier and come to check on-”

 

“I do not need to be doted on, Genji. It is fine. I’m... I’m glad you were honing your skills.”

 

Despite the reassurement, there was a slight venom to his words. A rushed factor that the pupil rarely heard. It was not often his teacher got agitated, and it usually wasn’t for any old reason. Slowly, Genji looked up from his bowed head, hands still poised. “Are… Is everything okay, Master? You seem…” Uptight? Bitchy? “...stiff.” That’ll do.

Zenyatta’s mouth pulled into a taut frown, brows furrowing upwards a bit before he looked back towards the far off target. “It is nothing. Just a bit of a sour morning that I’m letting get to me.” He let out a hard sigh before folding his arms, one hand still massaging slightly. “Do not fear my distasteful moods, Genji. One cannot have harmony without discord…” Well that was certainly one way to put it. Surely, he’d had one pile of discord after another this morning, what with his sudden spike of anxiety. The monk rested a hand on the center of his chest, attempting to control his breathing alongside that faint whir that vibrated against his fingers.

Meanwhile, Genji quickly nodded. “Wise as always, Master.” At last, his hands lowered to his sides as he looked over his teacher, noting that still furrowed brow. “Have you not done your morning meditation yet?” A shake of the head was the only response he got, allowing the conversation to go silent for a few moments. “Well… That might explain it, then. Shall we?” The young Shimada held out a hand to the monk, a small smile hidden behind his faceplate. Slowly, Zenyatta glanced over at his expectant fingers before drawing his gaze up to that hidden face. The smaller man remained quiet before gently taking his pupil’s hand, nodding with a small smirk. Without a word, he allowed the cyborg to lead him off.

 

\----------------------

 

It had been about an hour now, and he was still stiff. Occasionally, Genji would cast a quick glance over to his master, slipping in and out of meditation to check on him. Sure, the monk’s posture was usually straight and well kept, but this was just too much… The young Shimada frowned, form relaxed as he watched his teacher sit silently. He made no attempt to disguise his glanced, at this point. “Something’s bothering you.”

 

“Do not be absurd, Genji.”

 

The cyborg scoffed at his words, rolling his eyes behind his faceplate. “I’m not being absurd, I’m making an observation.” They switched to his native tongue when alone, in the case of onlookers. Paranoid as it was, it wasn’t a baseless claim. There WERE a couple of times… “You should be taking pointers from your own teaching, Master. Your posture is too uptight to properly relax. You look like-”

“-Like you when you first started. I know, I know.” That slight snap made the young Shimada flinch, frowning as the monk gave a hard sigh as his form deflated. Zenyatta rubbed at his temples with a growing glower on his face. Usually they turned that into a joke whenever his master got stiff or upset, but it appeared now was not one of those times. The monk uncrossed his legs, laying them out before him as he leaned over into a stretch. Hands gripping at his toes, he hoped this would at least loosen him up a bit.

 

“We are to be honest with each other, yes?”

 

“Of course, Genji.”

 

“Then why will you not tell me what is wrong?” His student’s voice was concerned, yes, but also as stiff as the monk’s posture. Somewhat forceful, even. Zenyatta’s scowl softened to a sad frown as he sat back up, form deflated as he looked away. “You have helped me comb through my inner demons. If something is troubling you, let me return the favor, Master…” He couldn’t say no to that face, as hidden as it was. He couldn’t say no to that tone, either. The monk gave a hard sigh as he leaned forward a bit, face partially hidden in his hands.

“I suppose… the attitude of some of the people here is starting to grate on me.” Genji sat up a bit straighter, chin raised as if he was trying to imitate his master when he was giving him advice. “Their anti-omnic talk, I mean. I’ve tried my best to overlook it and try to educate them, but…” This wasn’t something he’d usually be upset about. He’d dealt with his fair share of omnic haters and violent bigots. Was it different because he was working with these people? Zenyatta gave another long sigh. “My patience can only go so far somedays…”

 

“You had incredible patience when I was no different. What makes them so unbearable?”

 

Part of the monk wanted to smack him upside the head. Well Genji, probably the part where they start taking apart omnic parts right in front of me! That would do it! “I’m unsure, to be honest. Perhaps you were a different case. One that I could actually change…” He was beating around the bush. At least, he was trying to. Sadly, Genji wasn’t buying it today.

 

“You once told me persistence was key, master. I have never seen more willpower in someone before. If anyone could convince their fellow man that their harmful ideals were wrong, it’d be you.”

 

“It’s not that simple! Not this time! They-!” He felt another lump in his throat that shouldn’t exist. Following his snap, the monk clapped a hand over his mouth, form shrinking as the sea breeze washed over the two. He’d spoken too soon. He’d let his inner thoughts slip, and now Genji was looking at him as if he had two heads. _‘We are to be honest to each other, yes?’_ Something in him wanted to be sick, but he knew deep down that would never happen. _‘Of course, Genji.’_ He was a damned hypocrite, preaching honest and trust but keeping something so vital from someone he held so close.

The young Shimada’s voice had faded into background noise as Zenyatta’s ‘heart’ whirred, his eyes wrenched closed. He couldn’t tell him, could he? Just like he couldn’t tell the rest of them. They were so happy in thinking he was human. That he was one of them. They would never know of how much he genuinely feared the thought of them knowing his humanity was only skin deep. The ghostly sound of a drill bit grated at his mind, and it was Genji’s touch that finally made his loosen up.

“You are right… We are to be honest to each other.” Zenyatta let out a hard sigh as his eyes finally fluttered open. His student was respectfully silent, although he knew he was full of questions. “I have faced hatred like theirs before, and I tried to handle it as best as I could at the time. The way… I felt was right.” The tip of his braid gave a slight twitch as his arms snaked around himself, unable to look Genji in the eye as he spoke. “But this new team of ours… I don’t think I can confront them because… I fear their actions if they find out the reasons behind my views.” The cyborg was still expectant for more, apparently not fully understanding. “And I have not been fully honest with you, it seems. I’m not what you’ve all assumed. I’m… not human, Genji.”

“I-... What?” He sounded more confused than Zenyatta thought he’d be. “What have they been SAYING to you? Is that what they’ve implied!” His student stiffened a bit at this, scowling behind his faceplate. “They dare insinuate such?! Master, you are as human as any of them! As human as I am, regardless of how ridiculous they think your cause to be! They-!” The monk held up a hand, frowning at his pupil. At once, Genji fell silent, eyes widened a bit as his anger quickly fled. Had he said something wrong?

 

“No… No, no, I meant… I literally meant I am not human. I’m an omnic, Genji…”

 

Now that shut him up. The young Shimada stared for what felt like forever, until Zenyatta finally was unable to continue eye contact. Glancing back to the view before them, he watched the distant waves of the sea, an equally sized wave of regret creeping up on him. He shouldn’t have said that. By the Iris, he should NOT have said that! “Is… Is that why you like that Bastion fellow?” The monk smirked and slowly nodded.

“I suppose that is part of it, yes… He is the only other here that is like myself.” Genji’s expression was hidden, but he could feel that slightly jealous frown on his face. “You are a close second, don’t worry.” The conversation quickly fell silent once more, letting the two enjoy the view for a bit. “But yes… I’m not sure exactly why this time is different, but… I feel like that plays a part. Previously, I would get hatred from people I would never see again, only to leave a brief lesson hopefully imparted on their lives.” The monk slowly frowned, appearing a bit more emotionally exhausted. “These are people I must linger with. They are content seeing me as one thing, and I know I should be honest with them, but…”

 

“You are afraid?”

 

Zenyatta nodded, gaze casted into his lap. The omnic proceeded to wring his hands together, pushing and squeezing the synthetic skin despite his pain receptors. “Everyone has moments of fear, Genji. Even the most powerful of beings. Naturally, I am no exception.” A brief moment of silence sounded. “I have… seen their treatment of Bastion. It is one thing for me to protect his rights, but to openly claim to protect my own?” He furrowed his brows. “It’s… difficult to explain. Forgive me.”

 

“I do… as I always have, but… Master Zenyatta? Can you promise me something?”

 

“Hmm?” He glanced over at the cyborg, taking notice of something the man had apparently been stealthy about. Genji stared out at the ocean before them, toying with the edges of his removed faceplate in his lap. That intense gaze coupled with such old, painful looking scars made something in the monk’s hardware stir for a moment. Sunlight glinted off the sleek metal as the young Shimada chose his words carefully, as if afraid he’d offend his teacher.

“Please be honest with me next time. If there is something you feel you need to hide, do not hesitate to admit it to me. I…” His gaze wandered into his lap, observing the inside of the faceplate. “I don’t want you to be scared of telling me things. Omnic or not, you are still the one being I trust the most in this world. I’d like to hope I can be the same to you.” When he looked up at him, Zenyatta could’ve sworn his heart had snapped in two, if he actually had one. He was not an expert on omnic anatomy, so that was up for debate. Gazes locked, the monk slowly nodded, reaching over to set a hand atop the cyborg’s.

  
“The next time I have a secret, you will be the first to know.”


	3. Good News and Bad News

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I KNOW IT'S BEEN SO LONG!! YOU PROBABLY THOUGHT I FORGOT ABOUT THIS!  
> short answer: kinda  
> long answer: for a bit? i'm suffering rly shitty writer's block right now. also trying to write this with the constant anxiety that this is garbage and everything is OOC is not fun. i know i've said that a lot, but ti's still a big concern. i just want to make my fics both enjoyable and believable as much as i possibly can.
> 
> ANYWAYS, enjoy

 

“What do you mean I can’t go with you?!”

 

Zenyatta gave a soft sigh, folding his arms as he hovered idly. His treasured orbs slowly revolved around his neck like a massive necklace, his long braid coiling like a snake behind him. His student stood only a few paces away, an almost offended look beneath that face plate. “I mean you have not been chosen for the mission, Genji. Winston has agreed that your talents are… a bit too offense oriented for this mission. He needs more defender types this time.” He felt this was partially his fault. Genji had become… a bit over protective since his reveal a few days past, or at least that’s how he felt. Coupled with the fact that he managed to talk Winston into pairing them for each of their missions? He was probably spoiling the man a little bit.

 

“76 is going. His talents are rather offensive…”

 

“His strong suit is staying with a group and spearheading attacks. You are better at mobility and flanking, my student… I don’t think Winston sees a use for your abilities on this particular mission.” The monk’s face was altered ever so slightly by that quirk of a frown. “Perhaps next time you can come along with me, alright?” He could see the frustration tense up the man’s form as he softly sighed, giving a quick and upset bow of the head.

 

“I… I understand, master. I’m sorry. I just worry, I suppose.”

 

Well that’s one way to put it, the omnic thought to himself. Sighing softly, his form relaxed a bit, sliding closer so he could rest a hand on the young Shimada’s shoulder. “You will not always be there to keep me safe, Genji. I can care for myself, you know…” That quirk of a frown was replaced by a slight smile as he found himself looking into the cyborg’s eyes. Well, not exactly. The face plate covered them, but he stared across that line that provided the man vision. “And if my defenses prove to not be enough, I have five other people watching out for me… You won’t need to fret over-”

“I would not be so certain, Master Zenyatta…” The omnic paused, furrowing his brows as a confused frown replaced his smirk. He was about to ask for him to elaborate when the ninja turned away a bit. “I’m… I’m sorry for cutting you off. I just know that Torbjorn man is not too fond of things… no, people like you, I guess. I’m not sure what term to use.” He knew Genji wasn’t one to spew omnic hatred, but there was something about what he’d said that made the monk tense a bit. It seemed his student noticed this reaction as well. “Oh! No no no, not in that way! I merely meant-!”

 

“We will talk about it later, Genji… If we continue any longer, I may miss the flight, you know.”

 

The young Shimada glanced over at his teacher, who’d pulled his hand away to gently fold them as he hovered. In the distance, he could already hear Jack’s call for him to hurry up. Mediterranean sun playing across the student’s metal, he gave a quick bow against the soft sea breeze before stepping back. “I understand. I will not keep you any longer, master.” Still, he lingered for a  brief moment. There was an unspoken tension between the two as the monk turned away. “Have a good trip, Zenyatta…” His master remained silent as he turned to leave, unfolding his legs to gently land out of his hovering position as he departed.

 

\----------------------

 

Zenyatta had always considered himself fine with heights, considering where he’d lived after his spiritual revelation. However, it seemed he constantly surprised himself. He found himself staring ahead at the plane’s door, elbows on his knees as he sat to it’s left. The little couch and table set up was usually well occupied at this point in the flight, but it appeared he was left alone for now. Wind whipped past outside the glass, and for some reason, the monk had a hard, instinctual feeling sinking in his gut. Was it from being so high up? That’s what he’d assumed at first. Perhaps that was still it. Or perhaps…. Something more…

He knew Genji didn’t really mean it. It was probably just a slip of the tongue. An intrusive thought making it’s way out before he’d had a chance to alter it, something out of his control. Still, his brows furrowed as he replayed the conversation in his head. Things like you. Things like you. He’d crossed his legs on the couch, resting his chin in his palm as he softly sighed. No matter how much he told himself his student didn’t mean it, it still stung.

A depression in the couch to his right made the monk perk up, turning a bit to get a glimpse at who had neared. Blue eyes met his gaze, surrounded by deep beige skin and even darker hair. On old Omnic army jacket encapsulated those broad shoulders, giving a harsh tone to that otherwise kind expression. “Ah, hello there, Bastion…” The monk gave a weak smile before casting his gaze back out the window, straightening a bit. A brief moment of silence reigned as the other omnic furrowed his brows, suddenly frowning at the smaller one’s behavior. He leaned in a bit, craning his neck slightly to get a good look at the monk.

 

A series of beeps provided response. “(You seem upset…)”

 

“I do?”

 

Zenyatta had perked up, attempting to act… unknowing of his previous expression. His fellow omnic frowned even further, nodding as he braced his elbows on his thighs. “(You don’t look happy. You haven’t since Genji let you leave.)” The monk appeared to go a bit pale, his smile immediately failing when he looked back over at his friend. Folding his hands in his lap, he quickly glanced about to see if they had any listeners. Lucio was too busy accompanying D.va in the cockpit, whom apparently claimed flying such a vessel wasn’t too different than her mech and had offered to do so in place of Winston. The soldier and Torbjorn were thankfully occupied going over things at the table nearby, where a hologram of the globe had been projected. If he kept his voice quiet…

 

“He didn’t… -let- me leave. It’s not-! It’s not like that. It’s not like he holds me hostage…”

 

“(He at least looked like he didn’t want you to go.)”

 

The monk gave a soft sigh as he casually folded his arms, sitting straight beside the other omnic. “Perhaps…” His gaze found the window once more, observing the vast ocean they were currently soaring over. “He’s been… a tad protective lately…” A questioning beep made it’s way to him as the taller one smirked. “Granted, he usually is. Considering our relationship to one another, it’s something I’ve grown used to. But this..?” He turned to spy that wide smile, furrowing his brows. “I… What?”

 

“(He cares for you!)”

 

“Well, of course he does… He’s my student.”

 

“(No… Not like _that_ …)”

 

Zenyatta furrowed his brows, watching as the omnic bursted out into robotic giggles at his confusion. He was about to speak when they were interrupted by a nearing soldier. Jack raised a brow at the two, hidden beneath his visor, before moving to join them in the connected seats. “So… What’s going on in this neck of the woods, Chuckles? What’s so funny?” His words only made the omnic laugh louder, much to Zenyatta’s distress. In an attempt to explain it to the man, his response only came out as robotic beeps and trills. Thankfully, Morrison caught not a damn word he said. “Right… Well, uh… We’re gonna be landing in about an hour, so… Keep that in mind, I guess…”

He frowned beneath the visor’s mask extension before leaning over to retrieve a tablet from the table, pulling it closer to tap away. Thankfully, Bastion’s chuckles had lessened, but that hadn’t cleared up the monk’s confusion. A smirk drew across the taller omnic’s lip, observing those still furrowed brows. Zenyatta quickly turned away, resuming his previous position of his elbows on his knees. Chin resting in his palm, he gave a soft sigh, toying with the end of his braid in his free hand. The sinking feeling in his gut growing, the monk merely attempted to focus on the vast ocean below for the rest of the flight.

 

\----------------------

 

When Jack said he knew of somewhere safe for him, this was the last place he expected….

 

“Now I know you’ve had disagreements in the past, but I’m leaving him back here with you out of harms way, alright?”

 

“Disagreements? What disagreements! Ah don’t know what you’re on about!”

 

“Torbjorn, I’m blind without this visor, but I’m not stupid…”

 

His head was still reeling from the flight over to the Americas. Apparently his thing with heights was different when there were only several sheets of steel between him and certain death amongst the Atlantic. Right now, the team was just finishing with the defenses for their recent mission. Protect the sight of an important “meeting” directed by one of Mccree’s old allies. While the cowboy hadn’t been able to say hi in person, a letter had been exchanged upon the team’s arrival.

It was a quiet evening, and the forests of the northeast were refreshing to the monk. The meeting had been set in a very out of the way location, leaving the team to scour a seemingly innocent warehouse for good vantage points. The omnic stood awkwardly to the side, arms folded as he watched the mechanic lean dangerously on his built turret. Torbjorn had set up shop in one of the rooms at the top level of the warehouse, presumably where an admin or something similar would have their office. He’d forced open the window that stretched from ceiling to floor to make a great vantage point for his creation, his tools and scrap metal littering the tables nearby. “I’m sure past grievances won’t… interfere during combat, Commander.” His voice was small as he observed the area, but it managed to grab the attention of the bickering two. “And if the others manage to stay in my sights, it should prove to be a useful spot to heal from as well.”

The two turned to stare as he spoke, causing the omnic to awkwardly shift his weight from foot to foot afterwards. However, the Swedish man quickly spoke up. “Yeah, what the bot hugger said.” He waved a hand almost dismissively towards the nearby soldier. “We’ll get along great! Don’t worry!” Still, Morrison eyed him. At least, that’s what it felt like. His eyes couldn’t be seen beneath that visor, but Torbjorn seemed to shrink a bit beneath his gaze. “I swear we won’t start trouble together, alright?”

Thankfully, that seemed to be good for the man. Jack straightened his posture, fiddling a bit with the grip on his pulse rifle as he balanced it on his shoulder. “Alright. You take care of him. I’ll call for either of you if you’re needed, okay?” Nods in response were all he got, but he was satisfied. “I expect you to do the same, by the way. You both have your communicators on you, so don’t hesitate to gimmie a call.” With that, the man turned on his heels, leaving the two in relative silence in the small office room.

Zenyatta turned a bit to watch him leave, “gulping” down a lump in his throat. A lump that wasn’t really there and never will be, regardless of how he felt that uncomfortable stimulus in the center of his neck. It seemed his own programming was meant to fool both him and the human’s he’d been made for…

 

“So, just… get comfortable, I suppose. We won’t be doin’ much up here for a while until the show starts…. _If_ it starts….”

 

The monk turned back to the other he shared the room with, raising a brow. Frowning slightly, he glanced about the room, noting the strewn papers and opened drawers. Someone had been rooting through the area, it seemed. He perked up at the sound of a creak, glancing over to find Torbjorn leaning back in one of the office chairs. Legs crossed, he was flipping through what appeared to be some sort of magazine. It was probably reclaimed from the abandoned room around them, if the monk was to assume.

 

“So… You meant it, then? No trouble making this time?”

 

This time… Zenyatta didn’t want to recount the previous times him and the mechanic had gotten stuck in anti-omnic arguments. The man perked up at his words, looking over the top of the pages he read through. “Mhmm… Only if you don’t start with your speeches…” Lindholm gave a soft grumble as he continued his reading before casting another glance. “And honestly… That goes for all the time, you know. I’ve got nothing against you other than that.” He flipped a page. “You’re a good man, ‘yatta! Even if you’re a bot hugger, you mean well! At least you’re human….”

The monk flinched a bit at his last comment, immediately turning his gaze away. His hand gripped his lower arm tight for a moment, the faint sound of a drill still whirring in his ears before he sighed. “Well then, I… appreciate your effort to control yourself.” His tone had a slight sourness to it, something the other thankfully didn’t appear to pick up on. Blue gaze skittering over the desks, he made a movement to start clearing one off. Covered in papers, he barely gave them glances before shoving them into open drawers. Quickly, the omnic clambered up on to, crossing his legs while facing the window (and by extension, the mechanics turret). Laying his arms on his knees for a moment, he observed the scene before giving a deep sigh and fluttering his eyes closed…

  
  


“So what’s that you’re doing?”

 

He was about half an hour into his calm state when he was interrupted. The corner of Zenyatta’s mouth twitched downwards for a brief moment, his form straight and parallel to the wall. “Meditating”, came his mutter. “It’s the least I can do while we lay in wait.” He got no response, causing the omnic to sigh softly and pry open an eye. The mechanic had been watching him fairly intently, the man’s cheek resting in his palm as he held the magazine closed, one finger stuck in it to bookmark his place.

 

“What for?”

 

The monk straightened a bit more, shifting himself to get comfortable. “Why not?” His frown curled briefly into a smirk. “Meditating helps keep me focused and calm. Even more aware than usual, if done right. It’s good preparation for an oncoming battle.” He heard Lindholm give an interested ‘Hmm” in response, feeling that gaze linger once more. Smirking slightly, the monk gave a soft chuckle. “You know, it helps to not be stared at, too… Or were you intent on joining?” When he blinked open his eyes to glance over at the mechanic, he had a feeling he should call out Torbjorn more often.

Outside, however, the sound of distant commotion seemed to briefly silence them. There was the familiar tone of pelting gunfire followed by a crash that echoed through the trees. The monk perked up at once, all that previous focus snapping into being. Form stiff, the orb necklace stopped it’s orbit to float silently. It was only the sudden crackle of their communicator’s that broke the silence. “Torb! We’ve got heat coming in from the front gate! Can you come to the first floor for a sec? Gonna need a hand real quick!”

Zenyatta flinched at how fast the mechanic jumped to his feet. That magazine was tossed away, pages fluttering to the floor to echo Jack’s voice. “I’ll be down in a bit! ‘Yatta, watch the turret, will ya?” He didn’t even have time to respond before he was alone, the contraption nearby softly beeping as it tracked the area in front of it. For a moment, things were silent… until the turret spurred to life. The beeping spiked before it snapped to attention, turning and releasing a stream of bullets out the window below.

It was almost surreal to sit calmly while the sounds of battle began to pick up outdoors. He could hear the faint cries of D.va’s mother language, followed by her taunting laughter and the rockets of her mech. Frowning a bit, the monk slowly pushed himself to his feet, striding over towards the window behind the turret. It shot away with about the finesse and silence of a jackhammer on concrete, leaving the monk to wonder how it didn’t blow itself to bits merely from the force of it’s bullets. Glancing upwards, he peered out, observing the warehouse yard as it was drenched in the light of the american sunset. There were a few groups of black clad agents pouring in from the front gate, joined by a rather enthusiastic D.va who was flanked by the ever speedy Lucio. He should probably join them in the fray… Give them a bit more support amongst the enemy ranks and-

His thoughts were cut off by a sudden crack ripping through the air. The monk jumped and let out a startled yelp, immediately leaping back a bit. Before him, one of the turret’s barrels caved in on itself, metal spewing forth as it’s mechanisms were ripped to shreds by an incoming bullet. The thing quickly fell apart, it’s ammo and fuel leaking to the floor along with probably broken hand made parts. Such a finely crafted piece of tech meant to aid them… so quickly destroyed. The good news was that he didn’t have to watch the turret anymore, at least until he heard those familiar footsteps nearing the office once more.

 

“Alright, ‘yatta. I’m back. Anything fun happen while I was-?”

 

Bad news, the other guys apparently had a sniper...

 


End file.
